


Social Sightings

by SolarRain03



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Drinking, F/F, Implied Sexual Content, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27688168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarRain03/pseuds/SolarRain03
Summary: Elliot would consider himself an observant person, but how can you pick up on social queues from someone who always wears a mask?
Relationships: Bloodhound/Mirage | Elliott Witt, Lifeline | Ajay Che & Octane | Octavio Silva, Loba Andrade/Bangalore | Anita Williams, Wattson | Natalie Paquette/Wraith | Renee Blasey
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	Social Sightings

**Author's Note:**

> My second fic is here, this one is just as indulgent as the first, and any comments and criticisms are welcome. Thanks in advance for reading!
> 
> PS: My next fic might be a DarkSparks fic about Natalie's messy desk, or it may be a Lobalore fic about Loba watching Anita work out.

Social Sightings 

Most people wouldn’t guess, but Elliott would consider himself a considerate and observant person. He’s a bartender, it kind of comes with the job. You have to be able to see someone, not just look at them. Separate the angry drunks from the normal party-goers. It ties into his skills in the games too, holo-tech is great and all, but you have to imitate yourself, make it seem natural, don’t oversell it. It’s not always easy to tell how someone feels, take Renee for example. She’s always so monotone, but it becomes obvious when she goes from angry to pissed. You have to be the bigger man in these situations, humor can only go so far. The birthday surprise seemed to work; Renee looked like she could’ve cried. Ramya appreciated her bouquet of wrenches, calling Elliot an idiot, punching him in the arm. Since then, Renee and Ramya were a bit kinder, at least as kind as they could be, Renee especially. She sounded the same, but she didn’t make as many rude comments, and shook her head a bit more at his jokes. 

With almost every legend it’s easy to discover something about their relationships with others. More so if they’ve got a bit of alcohol in them. There are a few exceptions sure, Caustic and Bloodhound namely. Caustic doesn’t often come to the Lounge, and Bloodhound keeps their mask on. In the games, Loba and Bangalore respond to each other with “roger’s” and “lovely’s”. In the Lounge though, Loba gets very flirty. Not hanging off of Anita really, just subtly touching Anita’s wrist, scratching her lightly, laughing a little too hard. Elliott can’t tell if it’s her naturally flirty demeanor, or if she’s just projecting. Likely both. He’s not sure what’s causing it, the alcohol or the thief, but he’s never seen Anita blush, especially like this. She doesn’t seem uncomfortable, just hesitant. Once Loba stands, muttering something about “Mama wants a new toy,” Anita shoots upwards, shushing her and grabbing her wrist, quickly yelling thanks and condolences both towards Elliott, before dragging Loba out of the Lounge. “Good luck!” is all he calls out, shaking his head. 

And Renee, poor Renee. Natalie is all over her. Natalie’s body movement is already awkward, jerky. This is multiplied tenfold when she’s drunk. Renee likes appletinis, but Natalie is a wine drunk. She stumbles, clutching Renee’s shoulders, whispering some pun, “sparks between us,” giggling and hiccupping after. It doesn’t take much to realize something is happening, and that Natalie is trying to hide it. Sober, she calls Renee “amie”, drunk though? Drunk, it’s only “Cherie”, not a huge difference, but a much bigger implication. After the seventh electricity pun, Renee groans, opening a portal. She gives Elliott a similar farewell to Anita’s, bringing Natalie with her through the portal. 

Not every legend has a partner. Some are just mellow, sitting in silence or occasionally exchanging banter. Some nights, Crypto will simply tease Elliott, making pop culture references, or treating him like a child. Other nights he fidgets, constantly looking over his shoulder, leaving early without a word. 

Some nights, Makoa can spend the night making everyone laugh, other nights he just stares into the bottom of his glass. Sometimes both. 

Silva’s legs fidget. At this point Elliott can’t tell if he’s addicted to the stims or the runner’s high. Silva and Ajay become even louder, and Ajay rarely bothers to real Octavio back in. 

Elliott cuts Makoa off, wishing him a safe, peaceful night. “Thanks for lookin out for me bruddah,” he says as he grabs his jacket, opening the Lounge’s door. Silva and Ajay finish their song, arms around each other’s shoulders, swaying towards the door. 

Finally, some quiet. 

Elliott finishes wiping the bar, starting the dish washing machine. As he prepares his first drink of the night, a knock sounds at the door. 

“Bar’s closed, pal!” Elliott shouts towards the door, then takes a swig after. Elliott shakes his head as another knock sounds. He sets his drink down on the counter, walking towards the door, grumbling about the unknown disturbance’s ability to take a hint. The moment he door his breath hitches, and he immediately regrets what he’d said. Standing there is Bloodhound, menacing as ever. Even more concerning is that Bloodhound is at the Lounge in the first place, they rarely spend time here, so there has to be a reason... Hell, they barely pay the paparazzi any mind. 

“Houndie! How’s it hangin?” Elliott exclaims, arms outstretched. 

“Gott kvöld, Mirage. I’ve come for a drink, I hope I’m not too late.” Bloodhound says. 

“Funny, I was just about to close up-” “I see, I would not like to keep you-” “No, it’s fine really! You’re one of us, you’re just as welcome as everyone else at the Lounge... with the exception of the murderbot. And please, we’re off the job, call me Elliott.” Elliott responds, grinning and patting their shoulder, waving them inside. 

“Very well, Elliott. You may call me whatever you wish.” 

Once they both reach the bar, Elliott grabs another glass for them. “Pick your poison, Hound,” he says, gesturing to the alcohol behind him. 

“I would like something dark, strong. Surprise me,” they state simply. 

Elliott nods, turning to find a nice dark beer, something he thinks would fit their taste. Elliott recognizes their language as Icelandic, some old Earth-Based language. He had to translate their phrases, and did a bit of digging... details y’know? Regardless, the traditions are somewhat similar, so maybe a dark craft beer is exactly up their alley. While he puts the drink together, he inquires about their business. “So uh, what brings you here anyways? You don’t normally come to the Lounge, so seeing you here is pe- pec- it’s a little weird.” He shakes his head at his stuttering, offering them the glass. 

They nod, taking the glass with a quick “thank-you” nod. “If I may be blunt, I am not sure myself. I desired a drink, as well as your company, Elliott.” 

“M-my company? What’s on your mind?” 

“Given that I have asked for this drink, I need to remove my helmet." Bloodhound looks directly towards Elliot as he stammers again. “Oh well, uh I can just go to the other room if you want?” Bloodhound merely shakes their head, “Nei, I am comfortable in your company, Elliott. You are known to accidentally spread secrets, but I am confident you will not tell.” 

“O-oh okay, yeah I’ll stay quiet about it. Are you sure about this?” 

“I have taken my helmet off before for some of our brethren, for úlfurinn - the wolf and for draugurinn – the ghost.” Bloodhound reassures him, “I am quite sure, Elliott.” 

“For Loba and Wraith, huh? As long as you’re comfortable, I don’t mi-.” 

Before Elliott even finished his sentence, Bloodhound has already removed their helmet, Elliott’s breath was caught in his throat. They looked... different. Not a bad different, definitely not. They had scars on their face, tracing their jawline and chin, creating a frame of their features, with a strong nose and sharp cheekbones, they had long red hair, and a small scar vertically through one of their eyebrows. The silence lingered for a moment, before Bloodhound broke it. “Elliott, is everything okay?” they questioned. Elliot shook his head, clearing his throat and his mind. “Yeah, yeah no, everything’s fine, you just look.. different than I imagined, that’s all.” 

Bloodhound chuckled “You have imagined me before?” 

Elliott’s eyes opened wide, defensive. “Not like that, but when you work with this badass hunter that always wears full body covering, how can you not wonder, y’know?” 

Bloodhound nodded “I see, I hope that my appearance does not sway you from our camaraderie.” 

Elliott waved his hands wildly “No, nothing like that, you’re just really pret-” He stops, biting his lip and looking towards a random wall. 

Luckily, Bloodhound takes mercy on him, changing the subject. “You mentioned the other legends are welcome here, who was here tonight?” 

“Oh uh.... lemme think. Makao was here, Silva and Ajay where here. Renee and Natalie were here, but I think Renee took her home. Same thing with Loba and Anita, actually, and Crypto was here too.” 

“Loba and Anita left together, as did Natalie and Renee. What of you, Elliott?” 

“What about me?” 

“Are you leaving with anyone?” 

Elliott simply laughs, shaking his head. “Not as far as I know, no.” 

Bloodhound smiles. 

“Would you like to?” 

Elliott isn’t sure what to think. Normally someone asking him out isn’t a big deal. He flirts, jokes around.. But another legend? Bloodhound? Terribly terrifying and apparently attractive Bloodhound? He’s not sure what to do. Bloodhound sees pink dust across his face, and he starts to fidget nervously, stammering. Bloodhound is just as observant as Elliott, more-so even. They’re a hunter, and a damn good one. They know how to tell when someone or something is scared, aware, where they’re going and where they’ve been. But all of those skills render them overqualified at the moment, a blind man could see how Elliott blushes like a school girl, as if he wasn’t as experienced as he is. Poor man is nervous, Bloodhound figures. 

“I do not wish to make you uncomfortable, if I have pushed a boundary, say so.” 

Elliott nods. “Are you sure?” 

Bloodhound chuckles. “Elliott, you have asked me that many times this evening. I am sure, I did not come here for a simple drink, I came here for you.” 

Somehow Elliott flushes more, taking their hand. “O-oh.. Well I was just about to close up anyways.” 

Bloodhound smiles, all teeth again. “In that case, I will ask again, would you like to come home with me?” 

Elliott grins coyly, before grabbing his jacket and Bloodhounds helmet. 

The following morning, Renee wakes up sore with a small blonde head peering up at her, marked shoulders partially covered by Lichtenburg scars, bites and bruises, and a comfortable blanket. 

Anita wakes up in an unfamiliar place, something that would cause panic for many former soldiers. For her however, whether it be the ridiculously high thread count in the sheets, or the head adorned with partially dyed-hair on her chest, she feels calm and comfortable where she is. 

Elliott wakes in an place he’s only imagined. A small bedroom with a bed, and many bookshelves. Bloodhound is a hunter, of course they’re well-read. The walls are decorated with many trophies, legitimate and symbolic. Rather than take in the scene and observe has he usually does, Elliott simply relaxes. Elliott relaxes, and drowsily enjoys the smell of food wafting through the home. How had he not noticed their affections before?


End file.
